Velvet Verbosity

Well, you can’t fault me for not trying. I tried to add the Mr. Linky to my blog, but it just got too complicated and I will have to revisit that another day. With more submissions each week (ok, only three) I want to be able to make it easier for folks to link to their submissions. For this week, I’ll have to do it manually. The topic was “Generation” and here are the submissions. (Don’t forget to visit their blogs and give them some comment love!)

LCeel wrote a 100 word haiku. Are you impressed? Because I am. He says, “It details (sort of) the history, in this country, of the men who bear my family name. I guess over time I have evolved from Gung Ho Marine to Hard Chargin’ Pacifist. And I’m proud of it.”

Generation one
Fought the Civil War, he did
Died in nineteen ten

Generation two
Rough Rider at San Juan Hill
Died in fifty nine

Generation three
Came home from war in Europe
Died Two Thousand Two

Generation four
Fought the fight in Viet Nam
Not dead yet, Thank God

Generation five
My sons, will not go to war
If it is my choice

Four Generations
Have given more than enough
We will War no more

This generation
Has a larger task at hand
Than the ones before

The generation
Of more kind and gentle souls
That will war no more

Next up, let me introduce you to Secret Agent Mama. When you visit, be sure to check out her superb photography and touching poetry. I’m also super envious of her blog design.

She was a small woman standing at four foot one,
Her teeth were strong, as was her endurance of life.

Her daughter was the eldest of all her children,
She learned about life early, taking care of everything and everyone.

Firsborn grandchild was a girl whose only resemblance was in stature,
She’d only have one child expelled from her loins.

This child, the first great-grandchild, another girl,
One that would go on to have four babies of her own.

Four strong woman of four generations, within one family;
Women that are all so different, and yet all the same.

From Mama-Om who found me through NabloPoMo and I’m glad she did!

Whenever I come home from being gone - maybe for an hour or two - my children are happy to see me. They run to me and into my arms and then I am holding two children, one of them not quite five and the other just over one. I smell their sweaty heads; feel their fingers upon me, their legs woven around me. I stagger to the nearest place and sit and smile as they sit on me. I’m beneath the people I created. I catch my breath and see: Their genesis was within me; their lives are already beyond mine.

My own 100 Words:

She had created a new generation. Two children who came through her into the world with ten fingers and ten toes and each their own souls that seemed to her ancient and rich. She birthed this new generation on a table, drenched in sweat, wrapped tightly round with pain, and infused with strength she never believed she possessed. She has never forgotten those moments, nor the individual smell of each child’s head. When she kissed them now, on the tops of their heads grown taller than her own, she could still smell their birth weaved into their hair and scalp.

Now for next week’s challenge. By then I hope to have figured out an easier way to link. As I blog this from my bed, I picked up the book next to me titled, Women in Their Beds: New and Selected Stories by Gina Berriault. Using the super complicated and patented Velvet Verbosity word prompt generator, I came up with:

Lessons